


You Gotta be the First to Run

by zimriya



Category: The Avengers (2012), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Lots of Sex, M/M, Pseudo-Incest, Sex, but hey--that's what you get when you add incest, fucked up families, handjobs, it's all a blur, loosely based on No Strings Attached, some other stuff, this is a fucked up excuse for a romantic comedy
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-17
Updated: 2013-02-17
Packaged: 2017-11-29 13:32:30
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/687525
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/zimriya/pseuds/zimriya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>How it started was like this: Thor was nursing a cup of hot chocolate in the hospital waiting room, half reading a magazine and half scrolling lazily through the pages of the New York Times on his iPhone. One minute he was snorting at the latest celebrity gossip, and the next Loki was making a startled noise in the back of his throat.</p>
<p>They fucked in a broom closet near the elevator in the pediatrics ward. It’s not Thor’s proudest moment.</p>
<p>A No Strings Attached AU</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Gotta be the First to Run

**Author's Note:**

> I watched No Strings Attached during the time when all my brain would do was find ways to turn all movies into Thorki aus, and this was born. A gift for the lovely soph, the awesomest beta ever.
> 
> Title from the [song](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vKNcuTWzTVw) by Marina and the Diamonds.

**You Gotta be the First to Run**

**\--**

Thor has to admit that in the long list of stupid thing he’s done in his life, this would probably have to rank pretty high on it. From the look on Loki’s face, he agrees.

“I’m naked,” Thor says finally.

Loki is standing in the doorway to his room, eyebrows raised, with a cup of still steaming coffee in one hand and his iPod earbuds dangling from his shoulders. He snorts, sets the coffee down on his desk, pulls his iPod out of his back pocket, and starts winding the earbuds around it.

“And in your room,” Thor adds.

Loki rolls his eyes. He sets the iPod down next to the coffee cup.

“And--”

“Yes, Thor,” Loki says. “You are indeed in my room. You did indeed show up at my apartment and you did indeed remove all of your clothes. Now move; you’re sitting on my scrubs.”

Thor gets to his feet. “I--” he starts to say. “I am confused.”

Loki’s lips twitch. “Evidently,” he says, bone dry. He gives Thor a long once-over and steps around him to reach the bathroom door, where he grabs a towel and flings it at him. “Here.”

It lands across his lap, and Thor settles his hands on top of it before it can fall onto the floor.“Um,” he says.

Loki is in the process of peeling his layers off, but he pauses with his scarf tugged up around his ears. It’s one of those circle scarves--infinity scarves, Darcy calls them. _Yes?_ Loki’s arched eyebrow says. Thor swallows.

“We didn’t, ah,” he pauses.

Loki’s eyes roll. “No, Thor,” he sighs, tugging the scarf off and draping it over his desk chair. “We didn’t have sex.”

There’s a beat.

“Not for lack of trying, though,” Loki says finally. “On your part,” he adds.

Thor hums.

“Do you want clothes?” Loki says.

Thor nods, and even though he can’t see him, Loki chucks a pair of jeans at him. They’re his, but Thor’s pretty sure he wasn’t wearing them last night. “Hey,” he says, tugging them on. “I thought I lost these.” He winces a little at the thought of going a whole day without boxers, but Loki hasn’t bothered to locate the ones from last night, and Thor, imagining the look on Loki’s face if he asked to borrow a pair, wisely says nothing.

Loki shrugs, pads into the bathroom topless, and comes back into the room wiping water from his face. “Guess you didn’t,” he says through the towel. He’s missed a few droplets, and Thor’s eyes follow them along the tantalizing stretch of his neck and into the dip of his throat. His brother is thinner than he’d remembered, but Loki needs only to drag the towel down his throat for the muscles in his arms to flex, for the smooth lines of his stomach and hip bones to be thrown into sharp definition.

Thor feels his throat go dry; when he looks back up, Loki is smirking. He sits down on Loki’s bed.

“Ah, ah!” Loki says. “Up.” He slaps the towel against Thor’s chest briefly. It makes a solid thwacking noise, and they both watch the way it falls down the slope of Thor’s stomach. Loki’s eyes narrow. “I can’t deal with this,” he mutters, dropping the towel and turning on his heel. He picks up the scrubs lying on the bed, brings them to his nose briefly and makes a face. “They even  _smell_  like you...” he continues to mutter.

Thor’s eyebrows raise. “Loki?” he says.

“Hmm?” Loki says, looking down at him. His eyes dart between the shirt and Thor, before he drops it like it’s on fire. “I mean, get out,” he says. “I have to go get ready for work.”

Thor hooks his legs together at the ankles and leans back on his palms. “Okay,” he says mildly.

Loki starts moving again, inspecting the scrub bottoms now and deeming them unfit as well, and when he crosses the room to reach his closet, Thor reaches out with one leg to curl it around Loki’s calf, tugging his brother towards him.

Loki scowls. “Thor.”

“I didn’t do anything embarrassing, did I?” Thor asks.

Loki’s eyes briefly go sharp, before he sighs. “Thor,” he says again, but it’s less of a reprimand now. “I’m going to be late.”

Thor shrugs and drags his hands up Loki’s arms; Loki shivers, eyes going dark, and with a half groan, half sigh he settles down across Thor’s thighs. “We cannot keep doing this,” he tells Thor, seriously.

“So you’ve said,” Thor replies, and then he tugs Loki down into a smoldering kiss.

Loki fights him, of course, but he wouldn’t be Loki if he didn’t. He sets his teeth into Thor’s bottom lip, almost hard enough to draw blood, and his whole body shudders at the groan that drags from Thor’s throat.

Thor’s fingers find purchase on the skin of his shoulder blades, nails scratching against the bone until Loki arches against him like a cat, eyes finally going half lidded and mouth opening in surprise. Thor smirks. Loki punches him in the arm.

“Ow,” Thor says, sliding his fingers down and into the pockets of Loki’s jeans. “That wasn’t very nice.”

Loki rocks against him once, twice, laughing. “Whoever--said I was nice,” he says, but the words are choppy.

Thor shakes his head. “No one that I know,” he says, shifting on the bed so he can mouth along Loki’s jaw. “Ow,” he says again, when Loki’s fingers find his cock. “No boxers,” he says, when Loki only presses harder.

“Ah,” Loki says, easing the zipper down carefully and slipping a hand inside to stroke Thor once, base to tip. The smile he gives when Thor’s breath goes stuttering out of his chest is downright sinful. “Why, Thor,” Loki says. “This isn’t very--” He twists his fingers just so and Thor’s mouth falls open in a pant--“brotherly,” Loki finishes, and then he is tightening his fingers and letting Thor fuck up into his hand, hard and fast and brutal until he comes with strangled groan and his head thrown back against the pillows.

When he finally manages to slit his eyes open, Loki is licking the tips of his fingers and looking far too pleased with himself. Thor drapes an arm over his eyes to hide the way he’s almost smiling, and lifts one leg in an attempt to dislodge him. “Hate you,” he grumbles.

“Love you too, brother dear,” Loki says primly, making to get up.

Thor growls, heaves himself upright, and flips Loki back onto his bed.

“Hello,” Loki says, cool as can be. If it weren’t for the insistent press of his cock against Thor’s thigh, he’d be very convincing.

Thor drags his arms up so that he can pin his wrists above his head, and of course Loki curves up against him, testing his grip.

Thor tightens his fingers slightly, pressing his full weight down on Loki until the other man is gasping, eyes falling shut, and then letting up. “You are absolutely--” Loki starts to say before Thor gets a hand around his cock. “--barbaric,” Loki finishes, eyes fluttering shut and head slamming back against the pillow.

“If you say so,” Thor says.

“I do,” Loki groans, and that’s the last coherent thing he says before Thor tears him to fucking  _pieces_.

\--

(How it started was like this: Thor was nursing a cup of hot chocolate in the hospital waiting room, half reading a magazine and half scrolling lazily through the pages of the _New York Times_ on his iPhone. One minute he was snorting at the latest celebrity gossip, and the next Loki was making a startled noise in the back of his throat.

They fucked in a broom closet near the elevator in the pediatrics ward. It’s not Thor’s proudest moment.)

\--

Loki bans the use of names the first week in; takes to calling Thor a whole slew of names: slut, whore, brother,  _mine_  for days. The first time it happens, Thor’s entire body goes taut and Loki, buried inside him to the hilt, groans and comes.

“I,” Thor says, when he can breathe again. “What?”

Loki makes a fucked out noise against Thor’s throat and doesn’t slide out. He lifts a hand and waves it about the air in question.

“What did you call me?” Thor manages, shifting uncomfortably in his still hardened state.

Loki lifts his head. “Did you not like it?” he says.

Thor avoids his eyes. “Of course I did--”

“Because,” Loki continues, grinding his hips in a circular motion that has Thor groaning despite himself. “Your body--would say otherwise,” he finishes, slamming in hard against Thor’s prostate and sending him careening over the edge.

He slits an eye open, scowling. “I am not your--” He breaks off angrily.

“Oh, I beg to differ,” Loki says, and by god the man is fucking ready for round two already. “In fact--” He pauses to shift on the bed to roll them so that they’re curled back to front. “I’ll prove it to you.”

Thor glares down at the hand gripping his cock, but tips his head back for more when Loki presses kisses and the words slut, and whore, and brother, and mine into his neck.

Loki doesn’t stop with the names, doesn’t stop fucking him through a second orgasm, and when Thor tries to gasp out, “ _Loki_!” he puts a hand over his mouth in response.

“I think,” he says when they’re spent against the bed--Thor’s this time; Sif is going to  _kill_  him. “We shouldn’t use names.”

Thor blinks. “Why?” he says. Loki makes to pull away and Thor tightens his muscles, lifts a leg and twists so they’re face to face, still intertwined. The move has Loki slipping almost free, but Thor presses his thighs together and refuses to look away. “Why,” he repeats.

Loki won’t meet his eyes. “Why do you think we’re doing this?” he says finally, instead.

“It’s rude to answer a question with a question,” Thor says.

Loki laughs. “Answer it anyway.”

“Because I love you,” Thor says instantly.

For a second, Loki smiles back at him, before his face shutters closed. “I need to go to work,” he says finally, putting a hand on Thor’s hip gently and untangling himself from both Thor and the bed.

Thor reaches out and catches one pale wrist in his grasp.

“Thor,” Loki says, taking his free hand and covering his eyes. “We’re--” He sighs. “Brothers.”

“Yes?” Thor says, quiet.

Loki lets his hand drop, eyes snapping up to meet Thor’s. “And you really see no issues with--this?”

Thor strokes his thumb over the bone of Loki’s wrist, once, twice, watching the way it makes Loki’s feet shift on the carpet. “We’re not really--”

“Don’t you even start with me on biology, Thor, or I will walk out of this fucking door right this instant.” He snatches his wrist back.

“We are not what Laufey made us,” Thor says finally, and he pulls his hand back, places it over his eyes and waits for Loki to dress and leave angrily.

The moment never comes, and when he opens his eyes Loki is staring back at him brokenly. “Thor,” he says finally. “ _Thor_.”

And he’s climbing back into bed and into Thor’s lap and pressing kisses and Thor’s name into every piece of skin he can reach.

Loki bans names the first week in; it doesn’t last.

\--

(How they met was like this: Thor was shoved face first into ugly woolen sweaters and groomed until everything stung and nothing felt like it belonged to him and then driven to the house with his father stone silent in the front seat and his mother gripping his hand tightly in the back.

Loki was picking pieces of grass out of the lawn and snapping them in half methodically until they were too tiny to see, before letting them drop randomly back on the lawn.

Thor stood when Frigga stood and exited the car when Odin did and was just able to catch Loki darting up the steps to his house quicksilver quick and paper thin.

“Now, Thor,” his father said. “I want you on your best behavior.”

“Yes, father,” Thor said, but Odin was already halfway across the lawn. He stumbled once where Loki had been sitting, and Thor thought he could see the flutter of curtains and a dark head vanishing into the shadows of the house.)

\--

“I’m not saying it’s a bad idea--” Jane says.

“Yes, you are,” Thor interjects.

“No, I’m not,” she continues, breezily. “I just think it’s a bad idea.”

“What is?” Thor says. “Fucking my brother? I don’t know what problems you see with that.”

He keeps a straight face for a total of five seconds. It’s longer than she manages.

“Oh my god,” she says finally when they’re done laughing into their hands. “Your life, Thor.”

Thor shakes his head. “Blame his father.”

Jane’s breaths even out, and she curls herself more solidly into the couch. “You never actually told me that story,” she says.

On the television, Harry Potter is just finding out he’s a wizard. “This isn’t a Christmas movie,” Thor says.

Jane rolls her eyes. “You seem to have some misconceptions about the integrity of ABC,” she says. “I thought Tony’d cured you of that.”

“I haven’t seen Tony lately,” Thor sighs. “Loki doesn’t like it when I hang out with his boss,” he adds.

Jane frowns. “Yeah, no,” she says. “Loki and Banner go drinking every Saturday--the man has no sense of propriety. Loki’s just worried you’ll find out that Stark had a horrendous crush on him.”

There’s a beat. “I--what?”

Jane’s lips twitch. “I can’t figure out why,” she says. “You’re not nearly protective enough or jealous enough to warrant that.”

Thor sits up taller and looms over her. “Oh?” he says, voice deadly soft.

Jane shakes her head. “Still not seeing it,” she says, laughing when Thor growls, “It’s the face,” she adds, reaching out to pat him on the cheek. “You’re too lovable to be the jealous type.”

“My boyfriend from freshman year of college would beg to differ,” says Loki, making himself known as he crosses behind the couch wearing nothing but one of Thor’s oversized sweaters. He vanishes into the kitchenette before Jane can reply.

“Um,” Thor says.

“Was he here the whole time?” Jane says, faintly, after a moment.

Loki comes back into view holding a cup of coffee. He walks over to the couch, looks down at Thor for a moment, and then settles himself so that he’s draped across Thor’s legs, toes just touching Jane’s. She looks down at them for a moment.

“Yes,” Loki says and passes the cup to Thor, who takes a sip before handing it back. “But not awake, I assure you.” He yawns. “Still not awake.” There’s a pause; on the screen Harry marvels at Diagon Alley. “I have work tonight.”

Thor scowls. “Christmas, really,” he says.

“Tony does too,” Loki adds mildly, not looking up from his cup of coffee.

Thor glares at him.

“Okay, wow,” Jane says finally. “I see what you mean, that is terrifying--Thor, Tony’s moved on.”

Thor turns his eyes on her. She raises both of her hands.

“Honestly,” she adds. “And Loki, don’t you dare tell him I told you, but according to Pepper he has a horrible crush on Rogers from pediatrics.”

Loki’s lips curve into a smile. “Oh,” he says, shifting on Thor’s lap. “Does he?”

Thor tips his head back against the couch. “You are impossible,” he says.

Loki elbows him. “Shut up,” he says primly.

Thor starts to open his mouth to rib him out more, when there’s a knock at the door.

“Oh, yeah,” Jane says, pointedly not looking at either of them. “I may have told Darcy we were watching Harry Potter.”

There’s a thump, the sound of laughter, a calm female voice, and then nothing.

“She may have said she was bringing Clint.” Loki’s fingers go tight on the cup. “Who in turn probably brought Natasha.”

Thor cocks his head. “Clint?” he asks Loki. “Natasha?”

Loki sets his coffee down on the table and gets to his feet. “I”m going to go put on pants,” he says gently and disappears.

There comes another knock at the door, and Thor gets up to answer it. He opens the door to a blast of cold air and Darcy’s bright smile before she’s pushing her way through carrying what looks like an entire department store in bags and gesturing for the people behind her--a man rolling his eyes from underneath a Santa hat and a redheaded woman looking deadpan from beneath reindeer antlers--to come inside. Thor watches them go with little comment, and comes face to face with Sif, whose foot is tapping.

“I thought you said it was just Jane,” she says, but Thor can tell she’s grinning.

Thor shrugs. “You know how I get,” he says.

“Yes,” says Loki, appearing in dark wash jeans and that stupid infinity scarf to sprawl himself across Thor’s shoulder and smirk down at Sif. “If I remember correctly you used to laugh at him whenever he was beating them off with a stick.”

Darcy is loudly filling Clint and Natasha in on what’s happened in the movie so far.

Sif sighs. “You’re lucky that I brought friends also,” she says, and Volstagg, Fandral, and Hogun step out of the shadows.

Thor laughs, holds the door open wider, and gives Sif a mock salute when she crosses in front of him with her eye narrowed.

“Behave,” she says to their friends.

“So, Christmas,” Loki says after a moment. “I’d forgotten how crazy they are in the Odinsson family.”

Thor shrugs. “I guess,” he says. “I haven’t gone home in years.”

Loki’s brow furrows.

“It wouldn’t be the same,” Thor says. “And father..” he trails off when Fandral looks away from the group to look at them.

“Guys!” their friend calls. “Darcy brought presents!”

Loki’s lips twitch. “Shall we?” he says, gesturing with one hand.

Thor takes the hand in question in his and laces their fingers together. Loki’s eyes are soft when he looks up at him. “Indeed,” Thor says.

\--

(How it started was like this: Thor was putting the finishing touches on a short story when Loki burst into the room, more than a little drunk, with his hair in disarray and his face flushed. He clambered up onto the bed and Thor was forced to put the laptop to the side so as to avoid it getting crushed when Loki settled into his lap.

“Thor,” he said.

“Loki,” Thor replied. He gave his laptop and the word document on the screen a look, before leaning back on his arms and giving Loki his full attention.

“Stop that,” Loki said, slapping at his biceps until Thor sat up straight and gripped his wrists in both hands.

“What are you doing?” he said.

“You shouldn’t lean back on your hands, you know,” Loki said. “Bad form.”

Thor raised one eyebrow. “Uh-huh,” he said. “Right, Loki, you’re not making any sense--”

Loki kissed him, and kept kissing him, and Thor ended up kicking the laptop to the floor sometime in the resulting tussle.)

\--

Loki slams his way into the apartment like a natural disaster, all wild eyes and too-tight fists. He’s still wearing his scrubs and gripping his messenger bag like a lifeline. When he spots Thor settled on the couch nursing a beer, he lets the bag drop--Thor winces for the laptop within--and comes spilling into the room, dropping articles of clothing as he goes.

Thor gulps and sets his beer down on the table. “Loki?” he says, hesitant.

“Fuck me,” Loki says, settling himself onto the couch and tugging at Thor so that he ends up kneeling between Loki’s legs. “Now.”

Thor doesn’t know what to do with his hands, settles for placing them awkwardly on his thighs. Loki eyes them hungrily. “Loki,” Thor says again. He lets Loki take hold of his hands, but tugs them back when they end up cupping Loki’s hips.

“Thor,” Loki whines, but there’s a tremor in his voice and an energy about him that gives Thor pause. He frowns.

“What’s gotten into you?” he says, and when Loki starts to scowl he puts his hands back on the other’s hips and slams him back against the couch. “Loki,” he warns.

Loki’s lips twist, but he remains silent, turning his head away from Thor and staring at the far wall. At the  _calendar_  on the far wall. Thor’s stomach drops out. Fuck.

“Oh,” he says quietly.

“What?” Loki snaps. Then, “Thor?” softer, quieter, when Thor lets go of his hips and tugs him up to his chest. “What are you--”

“Oh,” Thor whispers, reverent. “ _Loki_.”

“Wha--”

“You think I don’t know what today is?” Thor says.

Loki goes still.

“Laufey--” Thor starts to say, and holds Loki still even as he starts fighting.

Half an hour later, Loki doesn’t look up from where he’s buried his face in Thor’s neck. “Shut up,” Loki says sharply, and Thor doesn’t say anything, just tightens his grip on his shoulders and ignores the wetness of the collar of his t-shirt.

\--

It’s raining when Frigga shows up at Loki’s apartment. Thor wonders briefly how she knows where Loki lives--why she cares--but then what she’s saying exactly catches up with him and the spatula that he was using to flip eggs moments before goes clattering to the floor.

“Oh,” Frigga says. “Thor.”

Loki doesn’t move from where he’s standing in the doorway but Thor can see the white knuckled way he’s holding the door open.

“Mother,” Thor says hoarsely.

“I didn’t think--” Frigga starts to say. “I was going to call--” She shuts her eyes. “You didn’t mention you were living with Loki,” she says finally.

“Good bye, mother,” Loki says instantly, snapping to attention and slamming the door in her face.

Thor can hardly breathe.

After a long moment, Loki comes to stand next to him. His hands, when they close over Thor’s, are shaking. “Are you alright?” he says finally.

“Are you?” Thor snaps back.

Loki doesn’t say anything, just rocks back once on his heels and seems to steel himself. “And why wouldn’t I be?” he says finally.

“I’m not the one who’s lost two fathers,” he bites out, regretting the words before they leave his mouth and unable to catch them before they do.

Loki doesn’t go dark as he expects, simply removes his hands from Thor’s and turns to walk into his bedroom. Thor stares after him, startled. He comes out a few seconds later carrying his messenger bag and keys, walks past Thor again and opens the door; Frigga is still standing there, looking shocked. Thor’s stomachs plummets.  _No_.

Loki pauses in the doorway. “Coming?” he says mildly, and leaves without looking back once. Thor follows him instantly, letting the door fall shut after him quietly. He meets Frigga’s eyes briefly, nods and touches a hand to her shoulder, before he’s following Loki into the car.

They drive in silence, Loki’s long fingers making even patterns against the steering wheel.

“How long,” he says finally.

“How long what?”

“How long have you been calling her?”

It’s not an accusation, but Thor treats it as such anyway. “Why do you care?”

“She’s my mother too,” Loki sighs. “I’m not angry that you’ve spoken to her about me--I’ve certainly told her about you.”

There’s a beat. “What?”

Loki turns to look at him out of the corner of his eye. “You didn’t think you were the only one keeping tabs on Odin.”

Odin, not father, Thor notes; it still stings. He leans back in his seat and sighs. “Where are we going?” he says.

“You’ll see,” says Loki.

They end up in a gym, where Loki sits on the sidelines and looks over the case reports that he took from Tony’s office when the man was busy flirting with Rogers. “Steve,” Loki says when Thor looks up briefly from where he’s pummeling a punching bag. “From pediatrics?” Thor resumes his punching. “He’s not all that, actually,” Loki continues. “Taking into account that he replaced me...”

Thor’s next punch has him stumbling to a halt.

“Oops,” Loki says.

He gets up to come inspect the hand when Thor doesn’t go back to punching anyway, and if they end up leaning against each other  _not_  crying, none of them says anything.

\--

Loki says it first. He’s half wild against Thor’s chest, voice breaking on all of his words and eyes shut tight. Thor has one hand wrapped around his waist and the other curled around his cock, fingers twisting in time with his thrusts. Loki comes with a half sob, going boneless against Thor and sighing when Thor reaches his own orgasm. He doesn’t move when Thor pulls away, makes a noise of protest that cuts off halfway when he realizes what he’s doing, and rolls a little so that he’s not lying in the wet spot. They end up pressed together in one long line, sighing.

“Hmm,” Thor says finally, breaking the silence. “Did you mean it?”

Loki’s body goes tense. “Mean what?” he says finally, and Thor peels an eye open to regard him for a moment.

“You didn’t think I didn’t notice,” he says.

“Of course not,” Loki snaps. “I just thought you knew better than to mention it.”

And then Loki is  out of Thor’s arms and halfway across the room before Thor can even finish digesting his words.

“Loki,” he says. The space between them has never felt larger.

“You need to go,” Loki says after a while. “Please.”

Thor shuts his eyes. “It’s my apartment,” he points out quietly.

Loki’s laugh is desperate and broken. “That’s even worse,” he says. “I’ll go.” He’s already dressing, still not looking at Thor.

Thor lets him; he has to, he promised.

“I--” Loki stops once in the doorway. “I’m sorry.”

The door slams shut after him.

“I love you too,” Thor says to the silence.

\--

(How it really started was like this: Laufey’s grave said he died an honorable man and a loving father--none of it was true. Loki stared down at it angrily and ignored the tears that kept falling down his cheeks; Thor stood at his side with his fingers balled into tight fists so that he wouldn’t touch Loki and ruin everything. They were brothers now, and no drunken fuck halfway through sophomore year would change that.

Thor was on a plane to London the next day; Loki started applying for medical school in the limo ride home.)

\--

“You should have seen this coming,” Jane says. She’s methodically making notes on the latest script, a single point of calm in the whirlwind of the stage. Thor makes a noncommittal noise. “I mean you had to have,” Jane continues. “Thor, he’s your brother.”

Thor shrugs. “That’s no fault of mine,” he says.

Jane stops making edits on the script. “Whose fault is it anyway?” she says. “Laufey’s--Thor, you can’t blame anyone but yourself for this--”

“Yes,” Thor says, and nothing more when she tries to pursue it further.

“Fine,” Jane says, handing him the script. “I like it, incidentally. It’s very good.”

When he looks, Thor sees that she’s written,  _Talk to him_ , in bright red pen at the top of the page.  _Please_.

He laughs away the urge to throw it in the nearest trashcan and goes back to work, where he spends the next few hours blissfully unaware of the outside world. Jane’s edits on his script are far more useful than her commentary on his relationships, and he spends his free time working out the kinks.

Darcy finds him sometime around five. “Hey,” she says. “Jane wants to know if you’ve talked to Loki.”

Thor throws up his eyes in mild despair. “Hello to you too,” he says.

Darcy rests her chin on his shoulder. Considering their height difference, it’s got to be uncomfortable, but Darcy merely makes a noise in the back of her throat and looks down at the script that Thor still has in his hands. “So you still want to be a writer?” she says.

Thor turns his head to look at her. “Yes?” he says.

“Is that a question?” Darcy replies. Thor shrugs her off him and she walks around so she’s glaring up at him.

“No.”

“Mmm,” Dacry says. “‘Cause from what Sif’s told me, you only started that because Loki said something.”

Thor blinks. “What?”

Darcy pokes him in the chest. “Something about secretly entering you in a poetry slam?”

“Oh,” Thor says. “Um, yes?”

Darcy shakes her head at him. “So. Do you actually enjoy writing?”

Thor gapes at her. “Of course I do,” he says. “Why would you think otherwise?”

Darcy looks down at his chest, and grabs him by the arm. She drags him across the set into one of the dressing rooms,before stopping in front of a mirror.

“Darcy! We can’t be in here, this is--”

“Look,” she says.

Thor looks. “Ah,” he says. “I’m wearing the same shirt I wore yesterday?”

Darcy sighs. “You’re in the gym every single day,” she says. “You get ridiculously cheerful every time there’s a game on. I know for a fact that you played football in college.”

Thor blinks. “Yes,” he says. “But what does that have to do with my writing?”

“I’m just saying. You shouldn’t let Loki decide what you want to do with your life.”

Thor’s shoulders stiffen. “Darcy,” he says, trying and failing to keep the anger out of his voice.

She looks unfazed. “Yes?”

“Drop it.”

“You can’t tell me you honestly thought you’d end up writing movie scripts as a child, Thor,” she says.

“No,” says Loki from the door to the dressing room. If he’s here to pick up Thor, he’s early. “But then again,” Loki continues, crossing to stand at Thor’s side. They’re very nearly the same height, and when faced with Loki’s slighter but somehow far more intimidating form, Darcy shifts uneasily. “I never thought I’d end up a doctor.” He lets that sink in, taking a moment to touch Thor’s hand before turning back the way he came.

“What do you mean?” Darcy says before Thor gets more than two steps away from her.

“It was Thor’s idea,” Loki says, not looking back at her.

“Thor, you have a sec?” Jane says, appearing in the doorway with Erik.

“I’ll be in the car,” Loki says quietly, and rounds the corner to be swallowed up by the business of set.

\--

They spend the entire car ride in silence and when they reach the apartment, Loki gets out of the car without pause. Thor finds him waiting at the door, picking at his nails. He’s painted them black; something about that makes Thor want to smile.

Sif takes one look at them from her place on the couch, and rolls her eyes. She’s half in uniform, badge and gun set down on the coffee table next to the remote. The television whispers on in the background. “Hey,” she says. “How was work?”

Thor sighs, and passes by her on his way to the kitchen. “Fine,” he says, darkly. He opens the fridge and pulls out two beers. Loki appears at his elbow to take his before padding silently over to sit on the couch next to Sif.

“Loki,” she says.

He tips the beer at her, uncapping it and taking a long pull.

Thor presses his fingers to his temples.

“You’re still not talking, then,” Sif says.

“Whatever gave you that impression,” Loki says dryly.

When Thor looks over at them, Sif is nodding slowly to herself; Loki has busied himself with the television news. “Hmm.” Sif gives Thor a long look.  “I’d assumed you’d made up,” she says. “Given that you’re most definitely still fucking.” She says the last part equally dryly, and softens the blow a bit by nudging at Loki’s thigh with her foot.

He shoots her a sidelong glance, snorting. “Emphasis on fucking,” he says.

“Oh?”

“Right, Thor?”

Thor stares at him for a long moment, before snarling, and strides off into his bedroom. He lets the door slam, sinks down on the bed, and when Loki nudges him over moments later, doesn’t say anything. Loki rests his head on Thor’s shoulder, petting long fingers against the thin material of his t-shirt and curling into his side. It’s oddly reminiscent of their childhood.

“Do you need a ride tomorrow?” he says quietly.

Thor holds his tongue.

After a brief moment, Loki sighs. “I’ll pick you up at 7,” he says, gently, and slips away with Thor’s beer bottle.

Thor can hear Sif making snide comments and Loki replying in kind, and he lets that be his lullaby as he wraps himself around his pillow and goes to sleep.

\--

They don’t get around to talking about it for weeks, and even then it’s only because Thor can’t stand it any longer. Loki seems perfectly fine not speaking beyond gasps and moans, and is particularly willing to ward off Thor’s self-deprecation with post coital sarcasm and well-placed smiles. If Thor did not know better, he would say that Loki is breaking.

He does, though, so he lets whatever it is between them fester for three weeks before stealing Loki’s on-call schedule and ditching a table reading. Never mind that it’s rush hour traffic; never mind that it’s his own fucking script. It’s entirely worth it for the look on Loki’s face when he sees Thor across the hospital hall.

“Thor,” Loki says hoarsely when Thor reaches him.

“Loki.” He grabs him by the arm and drags him into the nearest room. It’s dark, spacious, and, most importantly, quiet. It’s probably an office; Thor thinks he remembers seeing a plaque. “We need to talk.” The door slams shut behind them.

Loki crosses his arms. “Well,” he says. “Talk.”

Thor kisses him. He means it to be a quick kiss, more of a raw press of lips than anything else. But of course, once he has the taste of Loki on his lips, there’s no way he can’t _not_ nip at the seam of Loki’s mouth or swipe his tongue past Loki’s teeth and into his mouth. There’s no way he can’t not slide his hands through the hair at the back of Loki’s neck and leave him breathless and panting.

Loki wrestles free from the kiss with swollen lips and wide eyes. “That’s not talking,” he says hoarsely and almost grinning, but when Thor goes to kiss him again, he takes a step back. His back hits the door.

His lips really do look red and Thor finds himself licking his own lips in sympathy. Loki’s eyes follow the movement almost unconsciously, before snapping back to meet Thor’s gaze.

Thor smirks. “Do you really want to talk?” he says.

Loki licks his lips. “Not particularly, no,” he says, and this time when his eyes blink down to stare at Thor’s lips, there is nothing unconscious about it.

“But you would if I asked?”

For a long moment, it seems as if Loki is going to be unwilling to respond. Then he sighs. “Evidently,” he says, softly.

Thor sucks in a breath. “I love you,” he says finally.

Loki’s palms clench at his sides.

“I love you,” Thor repeats. “And you love me.”

Loki closes his eyes. “Evidently,” he says again.

Thor’s brow furrows. “So why aren’t you _talking_ to me?”

Loki’s eyes snap open, and he flips their positions instantly, so that Thor ends up pressed against the door and Loki is the one looming. And he is, eyes narrowed into slits and hands fisted into Thor’s shirt. “Because this wasn’t supposed to be _anything_ ,” he snaps. “Because you weren’t supposed to become _something_.” He rests his head against Thor’s collar bones so that all Thor can see is the slight curl of his too-dark hair. “Because I _love_ you.”

“And?” Thor tries to moves his hands up to touch Loki, and Loki catches his wrists in a vice-like grip and slams them back against the door.

“And you don’t see anything _wrong_ with that?” Loki hisses.

Thor lets out a breath. “You’re beginning to sound like a broken record, brother,” he says. Loki swallows a snarl at the use of the word ‘brother.’ “Loki,” he amends. “And, no.”

Loki gapes at him. “You’re impossible,” he says. His grip on Thor’s wrists loosens enough for Thor to pull them free.

“Yes,” he says, reaching out to pull Loki close to him. “But I’m yours.”

Loki’s brow furrows. “Mine,” he says, dubious.

Thor wants to laugh. “ _Yes_ ,” he says. “Were you not the one lording that over me weeks ago?”

Loki, if possible, seems to frown more. “Weeks ago,” he repeats.

“Yes,” Thor says slowly. “Are you a parrot?”

Loki’s eyes snap up to meet his. They’re shining. “Shut up,” he says.

“I love you,” Thor says, and for once, Loki looks like he actually believes him. “Now kiss me.”

And Loki--Loki _does_.

The door behind them locks easily enough, and Thor finds no shame in wrapping one leg around Loki’s hip, in angling his head back until their mouths fit together just so and Loki groans. He creeps one hand up Loki’s back, racking up the scrubs as he goes, until he finds the skin of his neck. Loki’s own hands find purchase in the material of Thor’s collar; one of his legs slots between Thor’s thighs and Thor grinds up against it automatically. When they break away for air, Loki is smirking faintly. “I am at work,” he says breathlessly.

Thor drags his thigh against Loki’s cock. “Oh?” he says. Loki’s eyes have fallen shut, but he slits them open a bit to glare at Thor. The expression is far too cautious for Thor’s tastes, and so he darts forward to kiss him again.

Loki laughs into the kiss. “Thor,” he sputters out, and so Thor attacks his neck instead. He relinquishes his hold on Loki’s hips and sets about walking him backwards, until they hit something. A desk, he thinks. Loki refuses to sink down onto it--“Work, Thor,” he repeats--so Thor flips them around and sits down himself. Loki blinks down at him, unimpressed. “I am not having sex with you in Tony’s office,” he says.

“Mmhmm,” Thor hums. He folds his arms over each other and pulls his t-shirt off. It clings a little when he gets it to his elbows so he has to work at it, but the look on Loki’s face when he’s flung it somewhere to the left is well worth the effort. “You were saying?” He sits back on the desk and spreads his knees wide, grinning up at Loki, whose jaw snaps shut.

“Shut up,” he says against Thor’s lips, even as he crawls his way onto the desk so that he’s kneeling between Thor’s knees. He kisses him--first his cheeks, and neck, and then finally, with a growl and a well-placed hand at the back of Thor’s neck, his lips.

“Make me,” Thor murmurs, and Loki growls, shifting about on the desk so that he’s not quite straddling Thor’s thighs but not quite kneeling either. When Thor goes to help him settle, he puts one hand on Thor’s chest and shoves, not at all gently. “On your back,” he breathes.

Thor’s mouth goes dry and he hastily complies; he takes special care not to lean back on his palms, and Loki’s lips quirk.

“Very good,” he says, and his own shirt comes off. Thor half resists touching before he remembers that he can, and by then he’s got his hands on Loki, who just laughs against his cheek.

Thor pulls back with a pensive look. “You’re still ticklish.”

Loki splays his knees more solidly on the desk and palms his cock through his scrubs. “Yes.” He gives Thor a look that suggests that he has the intelligence of plankton.

“Surprising, is all,” Thor says. He reaches back out for Loki, who comes willingly enough, still not smiling entirely with his eyes. Thor is going to have to do something about that. He settles for kissing Loki again, a deep, wet, soul-probing kiss that sets his skin on fire and has him gasping for breath and rocking up against Loki in search of whatever friction he can find. Loki breaks free of the kiss with a broken moan, eyes pressed tightly shut.

“If you say so,” he says between pants, fingers working quickly at the button of Thor’s jeans. He slides the zipper down quickly, and then shoves the pants down. Thor’s hips lift obligingly and he is very suddenly cognizant that he is currently naked on top of a desk. His cock twitches. Loki smirks. “Why, Thor,” he says, curling a hand around Thor’s erection. “Am I correct in assuming that you have a kink?” He curls his fingers just so, and Thor can only groan and fight the urge to fuck up into that too-light grip.

“No more than you do,” he gasps out, but his back arches and his head hits the desk. Something rolls.

“Careful,” Loki breathes, and his hands stop. When Thor opens his eyes, it’s to watch as Loki’s scrub bottoms go flying off in the direction of the rest of their clothes. Loki is beautiful, as always, and Thor can’t help the way his eyes drag up and down his body, taking in every inch of that pale skin. Loki is very quickly having none of that, and he pulls Thor up and over until he’s resting atop Loki’s thighs. “I think I want you to ride me, this time,” he says, considering.

Thor shuts his eyes. “You are terrible,” he mutters.

Loki laughs; Thor risks a glance, and when he sees the genuine pleasure there, he grins back. “As I keep telling you,” Loki says, a little self-deprecating. “God knows why you keep coming back.”

Thor presses his hips down so that Loki’s cock slips between the cleft of his ass. “I don’t think God has any place in this,” he breathes.

This time Loki’s laugh is unrestrained, and his head falls back to reveal pale neck. Thor leans forward to bite at it, even as long fingers find their way unceremoniously inside him. “Really, Loki?” he manages between pressing wet kisses to the column of Loki’s throat and feeling the wonderfully slick slide of Loki’s fingers.

“You can never be too prepared,” Loki replies, smug.

Thor starts to laugh, and ends up groaning when Loki’s fingers curl just so, and then he’s half collapsing on top of Loki and gnawing on his own lip. “Fuck,” he gasps out. “Oh--fuck--Loki--!”

“Hmm?”

“Hate you.”

“Do you?” Loki pulls his fingers free and presses his hand to Thor’s hip. “Because I have plenty of evidence that would say--otherwise--” he breaks off with a huff of air somewhere near Thor’s cheek, and Thor is suddenly unbearably full.

“Oh,” Loki says. He thrusts up a few times, and Thor’s vision goes white.

“Yes, _oh_ ,” he says sharply when he comes back to himself, trying and failing to get a grip on his bearings. He pulls himself free of Loki and opens his legs a bit . When he looks down, Loki is staring back at him with half-lidded eyes and a lazy expression on his face. Thor growls, shifts his hips, and fucks down once.

Loki’s back arches this time, and his eyes fall shut and he moans. Thor grins, and does it again. And again. The sound Loki makes is _divine_.

“I think I like you like this, brother,” he says.

Loki’s eyes snap open on the word _brother_ , and he growls, reaching up with his hands and getting a grip on Thor’s hips. “You’re going to regret that,” he says somewhat kindly, and that’s the last somewhat kind thing he ends up saying to Thor that night, until they end up gasping against each other and half hanging off of Tony’s desk, fucked out and completely and utterly boneless.

“Love you,” Thor says.

Loki grunts. “I do love you,” he says finally, when he thinks Thor has gone to sleep. Thor lets him feel the quirk of his lips against his collarbone, and refuses to let him go until the fight leaves his body in one long sigh. “Idiot,” Loki says affectionately, and Thor just smiles again, and closes his eyes.

\--

(How they really met was likes this: Thor was sulking on a couch, his father’s iPhone clutched in one chubby hand, frowning, as a man with too-sharp eyes and a too-long name--not like Odinson, Odinson was a just-right long name--spoke in hushed, angry tones to his father. One moment he was angrily pressing his fingers to the screen, and the next Loki was coming over to stand in front of him, head cocked to the side and eyes intelligent beyond his years.

“Hello,” he said. “I’m Loki.”

“Thor,” Thor said.

Laufey died two years later, suddenly and unexpectedly, and Thor found himself clutching quietly at Loki as they pretended he wasn't crying into Thor’s shoulder.)

\--

The first thing Thor becomes aware of is the warmth. A piece of Loki’s hair has somehow found its way into his mouth, and Loki himself has tucked his head under Thor’s chin, his feet tangled in Thor’s, and hands flat to Thor’s chest.

He spits the hair out, and Loki snorts. “I need a shower,” he says quietly. His voice has gone all raspy; Thor flushes when he remembers why. He hums, bringing one hand up to stroke along the ridges of Loki’s spine until he can tangle it in the hair at the base of his neck, where he tugs once. Loki groans, his whole body stretching until their toes touch. “You do too,” he adds, curling back in on himself with a yawn.

Thor nods. “Probably true,” he says.

“Mm,” Loki says. He’s started pushing his head back into Thor’s hand, but after a moment, he seems to realize that and stops. “Say nothing,” he threatens.

Thor lets go of his head and raises both of his arms. “I’m not,” he says, and at the same time what sounds like a can of pencils goes clanging to the floor somewhere near his left arm.

“Erm,” Loki says.

There’s a beat, and then a pounding at the door.

“Thor! Loki! I am going to _kill_ you--!”

Thor blinks, sits up a bit, looks around, realizes. “Oh,” he says. “Um.”

“So, anyway,” Loki says, standing up and starting around the room--around _Stark’s office,_ Thor remembers with a mild look of horror--to collect his clothes. “I really should probably be getting back to work--”

Thor gets to his feet and stalks forward until he has Loki pinned near the door. “Don’t you dare,” he says.

Loki raises one eyebrow. “Do what?” he says.

Thor simply leans in close and breathes against Loki’s neck until Loki is trembling, body thrumming with desire. It wars across his face for a moment before he drops the shirt he’s picked up and puts his arms around Thor’s shoulders--

Which is, of course, when the door comes shattering open and both Tony Stark and Steve Rogers come stumbling through.

“Oh my,” says Rogers.

“My eyes,” says Stark.

Thor makes a choked noise and lets his head slump against Loki’s shoulder. “Damn,” he says.

“Indeed,” says Loki, at the same time Stark sputters out, “My fucking _desk!_ ”

And then they’re both hiding snickers and pretending that Thor’s ass isn’t on display for Loki’s boss.

“I missed you,” Thor says finally when they’re done laughing and Rogers has dragged Tony off with promises of coffee and a date.

The smile Loki gives him is brilliant. “And I you,” he says.

Thor wouldn’t have it any other way.

\--

End.


End file.
